Sherlock: Halloween Gone Wrong
by SherlockDW2013
Summary: Sherlock Holmes and John Watson are called in to investigate a house on Halloween night. When they enter they discover much more than they bargained for... Rated T because I'm paranoid.


Sherlock Holmes was visibly annoyed. _Very_ annoyed. Lestrade had called him at 10 o'clock at night to investigate a strange house. Sherlock was in the middle of celebrating Halloween with John and Mrs Hudson; then dressing up as The Creature from Frankenstein and then scare all of the children who came knocking on his door. Instead, he and John had to be dragged to an abandoned building on the outskirts of London. And for further aggravation, Lestrade hadn't been bothered to meet them there. In fact, none of the department had.  
The pair paid the cabbie and then left the car. John's eyes set on the house and he breathed out, his breath left as smoke out of his mouth and then disappeared into the night air. He turned to Sherlock

"Is this it?"

"It would seem so" Sherlock replied, looking onto a piece of paper with a roughly scrawled address. They walked to the huge oak doors

"Uh… Should we knock?"

"Please, John. Do you honestly think that someone will answer?"

"Right… Stupid question…" Sherlock gently pushed the door which creaked open loudly and they both entered the house.

The floorboards creaked with every step and John winced

"What did Lestrade want us to go here for?" he whispered. He had finally noticed how cold it was so he blew and rubbed his hands together.

"He said that there had been reports of screaming coming from the house."

"From who? This house _is_ technically in the middle of nowhere. And why did he call you about it? You're a Detective not a-"

"_Consulting_ Detective." Sherlock snapped harshly

"Right, a _consulting_ detective, not a police man."

"Perhaps our dear Lestrade was too afraid to come here as well as the rest of the department." John chuckled

"Yeah," Sherlock heard John's chattering of teeth and sighed. For an army Doctor he was utterly useless. He took out a pair of gloves and remover his scarf; then handed the gloves to – a dumbfounded- John who took them. Sherlock then wrapped the scarf securely around John's neck.

"Oh! Sherlock these are your I-"

"Put the gloves on, you're absolutely freeing. Don't worry about me, I'm not cold." John shyly smiled, adjusted the dark scarf and then put on the gloves onto his pale hands

"Thanks." Sherlock waved it away

"Think nothing of it." They walked in silence for a few moments before John got a little uncomfortable

"Do you know where the screaming came from?"

"It is reported to have originated from the second floor." They both paused as they came across a stair case.

"Up then?"

"Indeed."

"Uh… Consulting Detectives first?" John laughed nervously and Sherlock rolled his eyes  
"Chicken." He said before climbing the stairs, the ex-army doctor following steadily behind.  
Every step of the stair case was accompanied by more creaks as they finally reached the landing and two opposite corridors. One leading left, the other to the right

"You go left and I will go right." Sherlock said and without waiting for a reply went right and down the dark corridor. John sighed before heading his own way.

Sherlock strolled down the quiet corridor with sharp eyes. He looked down at the carpet; most likely it'd had better days. The once vibrant and electric crimson now faded and dull. Holes decorated every inch of the rug. The wall was no different; most of it was ripped and had long since faded and worn away. Despite the gloomy hallway he picked out little clues and signs of a struggle. His shoe squelched in something wet and he instinctively looked down. Eyes adjusting, he saw the blood. He bent down and swiped a finger carefully on it and felt it between his fingers.

It was definitely fresh. _Very_ fresh. He straightened and wiped the blood on his trousers before looking for the source of the blood. Looking right, he saw a door and blood escaping from the gap underneath. He breathed in and closed a hand around the knob; then he opened the door. His eyes grew accustomed to the darkness and he finally saw the body. The face was pacied and blank. He gingerly stepped closer to the corpse, his foot squelching in the blood. Something clicked in his head and he frowned. There's so much blood. _Too_ much. He reached in his pocket and found it empty. He groaned, he'd given his gloved to John.  
"J-!" he stopped himself from shouting loudly.

_Idiot, the killer could still be here…_

He mentally slapped himself for being so stupid. There was a creak of floorboards and Sherlock perked up

"Hello?" he said loudly "Anybody there?" he had inkling that he was being closely observed. He gave up and then texted Lestrade

_Found a body, come quickly. -SH_

Once the message had been sent, he pocketed his phone and went to search for John. He swiftly walked back to the staircase and then continued down the opposite corridor. Sherlock passed a room which had its door slightly ajar. He passed it without a second though before something willed him to go back. He walked back and noticed tiny specks of blood smeared across the door. He hesitated at first before gently nudging the door open. He looked up and froze at the sight above him and his mouth dropped open.

There was another corpse. This time it was different though, it was now hanging from the ceiling. Its blood splattered on every surface. There was writing, it said:

**Good Luck Solving this, Freak!**

Sherlock had never been afraid of a corpse before, no matter where or how it was placed. However the features upon the body's face were ones of horror and fear, it caused a chill to fun down Sherlock's spine and he shivered. He swallowed the forming lump in his throat and made a step cautiously forward. He was too distracted about the body he didn't notice the door slam behind him. He whirled in shock and then tried to open the door with no avail. He slammed his fist against it

"John! JOHN!" he shouted and tried to jiggle the door knob. He knew someone was definitely playing with him. He looked back to the body; the features seem to change to him. From horror to mockery. He banged on the door again "John!"

His voice was trembling, he was actually _scared_. His hands were shaking and it felt like the room was closing in on him. He was beginning to feel dizzy and he couldn't breathe; he heard a voice on the other side of the door

"Sherlock!" It was John. Thank _God_

"John!" Sherlock slammed a fist on the door again "I can't get out! Please, get me out of here!" he pleaded

"OK, Sherlock, stay back! I'm going to shoot the lock!" Although his vision was going blurry, he obeyed. There was a bang and the door flew open, Sherlock threw himself out of the room just in time as he threw up in the middle of the corridor.

"Sherlock?!" he heard John screech. All of his stomach contents emptied out onto the floor. There was a soothing voice in his ear and someone rubbing his back. When he'd finished, his legs buckled and John caught him neatly

"Sherlock, what did you see?" John asked gently as he led Sherlock to a –convenient- chair. Sherlock was gasping for breath and John looked to the room and began to walk towards it, Sherlock quickly grabbed his hand

"No… Don't…" he rasped "_Please_…"

"OK, Sherlock. I won't." Sherlock sighed weakly.

"Sherlock, Lestrade should be here any minute. Let's get you out of here and back home." Sherlock just nodded

Then, out of nowhere, a loud stomping filled the corridor. They both went rigid and Sherlock's grip tightened around John's wrist. There was a shadow emerging from the opposite corridor and John pointed his gun in that direction and protectively stood in front of Sherlock. The figure emerged around the corner; it had a white mask and a chainsaw. Like the man from the _Slasher Movie_ . The hum of the chainsaw exploded into Sherlock's ears and he tensed. John didn't seem fazed

"Stay back." He hissed but the man kept coming. John deactivated the safety on the gun "One more warning. Stay. Back." His finger tightened around the trigger and the figure paused resulting in a frown from John. He heard it talk

"Happy Halloween!" it said and Sherlock paused. The figure ripped off the mask to reveal –a very proud- Anderson. Donovan –who had a very pleased look on her face- Lestrade and most of the police department emerged out of nowhere "Scared ya!" Anderson grinned _This was a Trick_?

"What smells?" Donovan scrunched her nose up to the foul odour

"John? Sherlock?" Lestrade asked as he saw the sick on the floor

"Are you telling me that this was a Halloween _Trick_?" John spat, anger biting into every word

"Yep and boy, did we scare you?" Anderson replied and took off the rest of his costume

"You filthy bastard!" John roared and everyone –even Sherlock- flinched. John holstered his gun

"Whose idea was this? Answer me!" everyone looked to Anderson and John punched him square in the face

"What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"It's just a Halloween trick!" Donovan protested and helped Anderson.

"No, don't you _dare_ say that! Look at Sherlock for God sake!" Everyone glanced at Sherlock. He was shaking wildly, his body was rigid and he was drenched In sweat. His eyes were wide and terrified

"Sherlock?" Lestrade said and placed a hand on Sherlock's shoulder. The detective cried out as if Lestrade had burned him "Sherlock!" the weak detective practically crawled to John who bent down. Sherlock grabbed his jumped and whispered urgently in his ear

"I want to go home. _Please_."

"I think we need to get Sherlock to a hosp-"

"No, he's coming home with me." John interrupted and helped Sherlock to his feet "There had better be a cab outside to take us back to Baker Street or so help me I will shoot every last one of you!"

Luckily, there was a cab outside and they drove home. When they were in the flat Sherlock collapsed onto the couch

"I'm gonna make a cup of tea alright?" John said softly. Sherlock nodded. John waited for the kettle boiled before stirring the tea and walking into the living room.  
He found Sherlock reading a newspaper and looking his normal self

"Sherlock?" John asked, shocked.

"Hm? Oh, put the tea on the table thank you."

"S-Sh…"

"Ah, yes." Sherlock looked up from his newspaper "I looked sick."

"But you vomited and you were pale…" John stammered

"You deserve an explanation. I had found out about Anderson's attempt to scare me on  
Halloween. So, I got prepared."

"But you were sick!"

"Ah, that took a lot of work to do." Sherlock winced

"You were so pale!"

"I'm always pale."

"You're telling me that you threw up and looked scared out of your mind just so you could make the whole department feel guilty?"

"I'm quite the actor aren't I? And Well done John, you're catching on fast." John placed the tea down and fell into the couch

"You little sod." He laughed "How long are to keep this up?"

"Until Anderson apologies"

"Ooh. That might take a while."

"It will be worth the wait."

There was a knock on the door and he heard children downstairs

'Trick or Treat!'

Sherlock smirked

"John, how about I dress up as The Creature and then we can go scare some children?"

"You are evil, Sherlock."

"Are you coming?"

"My god yes."


End file.
